


How Time Destroys Love

by PatrickBatemansLittleChow



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Gen, Interesting NPCs Mod
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 07:18:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6647812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatrickBatemansLittleChow/pseuds/PatrickBatemansLittleChow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A spin on Rumarin's backstory. Utilizes an OC belonging to a friend of mine. Whipped this one up ages ago for her. As always not 100% accurate lore-wise. <br/>Enjoy :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

-Rumarin-

  The high elf moaned against the early morning light as it’s piercing rays cut through the flap of his tent. 

  “Get up, Ru!” Otero called. 

  “No.” The elf protested, curling up against his blankets. 

  “Better do as he says.” Relen, his father, warned from outside. 

  “What on earth is that fat nord going to do?” Rumarin teased, a sly grin pulling across his sleepy face. 

  “This.” 

  Rumarin felt the jesters massive hands on his ankles, and he was wrenched from his warm bedroll and left to wither and whine beneath the full force of the Shimmerene sun. 

  His parents laughed wildly, while Otero stood over him looking very pleased with himself.

  “One of these days, Otero...” Rumarin cautioned, taking a spot beside his mother at the cooking fire. 

  “Tea, child?” Vivek asked. Rumarin nodded, taking the cup his mother offered.

  “Ha!” The nord exclaimed. “You can barely lift a greatsword. It will snow in the summer before you can handle all of this.” with that note, Otero gave his round belly a loving stroke. 

  “I don’t think anyone in the Tamriel  _ wants _ to handle it, Otero.” Relen teased. 

  Rumarin gave a hoot of laughter, slapping his knee, and nearly spilling the boiling tea all over himself. 

  “Now, Relen.” Vivek cooed. “Otero may not be attractive in the obvious ways. But he is a kind man. And patient. I mean...He puts up with you on a daily basis.”

  Otero gave a soft chuckle, twisting his moustache as he glared at Relen. “Vivek, my dear…” He sighed. “You are ever kind.” He planted a kiss on her cheek, and went off to his tent still chuckling. 

  “Curse that nord to oblivion.” Relen muttered, though he was smiling as he said it. 

  Content, Rumarin looked from his parents, to Otero’s turned back, and back again.     

    There was no place in all the world he would rather be.

  “Are you helping Otero with his act today?” Relen asked. 

  Rumarin nodded. “Yes, sir. I was reading up on some summon familiar spells last night. Thought it might be interesting to fight them off with some bound swords.” 

  “I’m sure the audience would love that.” Relen remarked. 

  “I can’t say I agree with slaughtering creatures for entertainment.” Vivek said, shaking her head. 

  “But mother they are summoned creatures. Illusions. They feel nothing.” 

  He watched as his mother’s face turned sympathetic, almost sad. “Everything is capable of feeling pain, Rumarin. Whether it be the bite of a blade or the breaking of a heart...Every creature may feel pain.” 

  “Except ghosts.” Rumarin continued with a grin. 

  Exasperated with her son, Vivek only sighed. 

  “Let's go Ru.” Otero yelled, walking briskly to his brightly coloured jesters tent.          “Finish your tea and let's get to it.” 

  “Try not to worry too much, Mother.” Rumarin said, kissing the top of her head before jogging off to join the jester. 

  “He’ll learn, my love.” Relen assured, softly stroking his wife’s hand. 

  “I know.” She replied. “I just hope it does not destroy his spirit in the process.”

  “Impossible. If anything it will strengthen it.” 

  Vivek made a noise of agreement, and watched her son dash out of sight.

 

  “Ladies and gentlemen. Boys and girls. Beasts of all types.” Rumarin boomed, winking at the grunting orcs at the back. “It is my pleasure to welcome you to the best magic display in all of Tamriel. Today you will bear witness to marvels, and mystery. Danger and daring!” 

  “And an elf blowing himself to smithereens.” Otero noted, juggling some smooth stones much to the children's delight. 

  A wave of soft laughter rippled through the crowd. 

  Rumarin shot a look at Otero, dramatically rolling his eyes as he returned to his spiel. “A fair warning to you, my good people. What you’re about to see is real. I will pull beings from the depths of oblivion for your entertainment. You will witness the arcane. The beyond.” 

  A few murmurings, and the audience was intrigued. 

  With a devilish grin, Rumarin raised his hands to begin conjuring. 

“For my first trick…” He swept his gaze over the crowd one last time and- 

  His cunning eyes rested upon a woman near the back. He felt himself falter, and all the clever words and nonsensical incantations he had prepared left him. 

  He could only compare her to the goddesses he had seen in cathedrals and temples. The ornate carvings of perfection that until that moment he thought only occupied stone. A Dunmer, with flowing raven hair and equally dark skin. Her face in perfect symmetry with two lines of golden paint adorning her high cheekbones.  Her eyes were the color of roses, and piercing him. She was simply ravishing...And he was helpless beneath her gaze.

  He swallowed hard, and squeaked “Volunteer.” 

  The audience laughed, and the dark elf woman smiled. Rumarin felt his heart leap and his stomach twist into butterflies. 

  Embarrassed, he cleared his throat. “I uh...I need a volunteer.”

  About half the audience eagerly raised their hands, the dark elf was not among them.

  “How about…” He made a show of scanning the audience, keeping the Dark Elf in the corner of his eye. His grin growing wider, his pointing finger landing on the beautiful woman. “You.” 

  She lifted a single brow, and looked down to the ground sheepishly. 

  “Come, come now, my dear.” Rumarin crooned, gesturing with his slender digit for her to come closer. 

  She rolled her eyes, but obliged. She parted the crowd with a graceful gait, that while elegant held a kind of power. No man would dare challenge her. Or woman for that matter. She was wearing a set of grey leather clothes, adorned with pouches and straps. A pair of deadly daggers hung at her waist. She brushed past the high elf, carrying the scent of honey and oak as she took her place at his side. 

  “Mm…R-r-Right then.” Clearing his throat once more, Rumarin tried to switch to his more bold performance personality. “What is your name, m’lady.” 

  Color  rose in her dark cheeks as she smiled at him. “Aevus.” She said with a voice like silk.

  “Aevus.” Rumarin repeated quietly. “Yes, Aevus! A fine name for a fine woman.” he waggled his eyebrows at her as the crowd chuckled. 

  “Thank you.”

  “My dear Aevus, today you will be face with great danger. But I, being a master of the arcane, will valiantly protect you. Are you ready?”

  She shrugged. “I suppose.” 

  “Allow me a moment of meditation. This spell requires...Special attention.” Rumarin flashed another grin, winked at Aevus, and slipped into Otero’s tent. 

  “You’re done for, lass.” Otero teased, drawing more laughs from the crowed. 

  Rumarin laughed too, and felt the breeze come through as the Jester joined him in the small tent. 

  “That wasn’t a joke, Rumarin. What in the gods are you planning?”

  “I’m going to summon a storm atronach, bind a sword, defend that beautiful woman, she’s going to fall in love with me and we’re going to get a drink at the Tavern.” The elf explained matter of factly, flipping through his spell book.

  “For one thing, she’s out of your league. Second, she’s a dark elf. Your parents would have a fit. And Three…” Otero grabbed Rumarin shoulders, shaking him. “...you are not summoning a goddamn storm atronach are you crazy?!”

  “Crazy for her, yes.” 

  “Get your heart out of this! You can barely summon a chicken!”

  “I’m not so sure it’s my heart making this decision.” Rumarin joked. 

  “This is serious. You are not doing this to impress some girl.” 

  Rumarin straightened up, smirking at the nord. “Watch me.” He said, escaping his grip. He burst back out into the sunlight, arms outstretched. “Let us begin!” He exclaimed. 

  “You lot...Back.” Otero commanded, as he began herding the crowd backwards several feet. 

  Rumarin rubbed his palms together, and felt the magic swirl through him. From the ground rose some rocks, the air around them creating a tiny vortex. The sound of thunder emanated within, as a Storm Atronach took shape. 

  “A-ha!” Rumarin shouted, looking to Otero for approval. There was some applause as the Storm Atronach danced and twirled around the cobblestone.    “Alright now lets see what this stormy bastard can do.” 

  Suddenly, the atronach turned on Rumarin, and started barrelling towards him. He leapt out of the way, hitting the pavement with a smack. The raging atronach tore up the ground beneath it, hurling pieces of the roadway at the elf. Screams erupted from the crowd and they began to scurry in all directions. 

  “Everyone run for safety!” Otero ordered. “Get the guards!” 

Rumarin helplessly scrambled away from the Storm Atronach, only to find himself backed against a wall. Bracing for death, he closed his eyes as the atronach fist raised. 

  “HYAH!” 

There was a clash of steel and rock, and the atronach turned it’s attention away from Rumarin. The elf jumped to his feet, hands shaking as he conjured a sword. The scene that played out before him had his mind reeling. 

  There was Aevus, a flurry of blade and leather hacking at the atronach. 

  “What a woman…” He marvelled. 

  “A little help wouldn’t hurt!” She yelled, grunting as she slashed some more.

  “Oh! Right yes I’m coming!” Rumarin charged ahead, his arcane blade hissing as it made contact with the monster. The pair made quick work of the thing, and soon it was a pile of ash at their feet. 

  Breathless, Rumarin looked to Aevus. “Hah...Well that-That didn’t quite go as planned.”

  “You’re a fool. A dangerous, rambling, raving, fool.” Aevus scolded.

  “Well...Fool is a harsh word.” 

  “You’re lucky all I have for you is a harsh word.” The Dark elf threatened, waving one of her daggers at him. 

   “Well you deserve a drink. You know, for saving my hide.” 

  “You’re going to buy me a drink?” 

   “Nothing would make me happier.” Rumarin said, flashing his teeth in his perfect charming grin. 

  Aevus laughed, shaking her head. “You’re crazy.” 

  “So I’ve been told. Now how about that drink?” 

  “I’m not sure. I don’t often galavant around strange cities with even stranger men.” 

  “Come on, Aevus.” Rumarin clucked his tongue. “Don’t make me ask twice.” 

  “You’ve already asked twice!” She noted. 

  “Third times a charm.” He said, offering his hand.

  She scoffed. “You know what? Fine. You can buy me a drink. But you’ll need this.” 

  She slapped a familiar pouch full of coins into his open palm. 

  He stared dumbfounded, patting his now empty pockets. “How did you-”

 “Rumarin Cinis I’m going to kill you!” Otero roared. 

  Rumarin felt fear rip through him as the massive nord, dressed in his gaudy jester outfit began rushing towards him. 

  “Question’s later. Tavern now.” He took Aevus by the hand, and led her through the congested crowd. “This way!” He declared, pulling her into an alley. 

  She laughed all the way, chasing after the spry elf. 

  He ducked, waiting a moment. Otero came careening around the corner, and the two continued on running.

  “Where are we going?” Aevus shouted, a massive smile on her face. 

  “Somewhere he can’t fit. Can you climb?” 

  Suddenly, Aevus was running up the brick wall at their side, clinging to banisters and windows as she clambered to top. “Better than you can, pretty boy.” 

  Amazed, Rumarin scrambled up after her, and less than gracefully collapsed beside her on the slanted rooftop. 

  “You sneaky elf!” Otero called from below. 

  The two laughed at the enraged nord, catching their breath from their roost. 

  Aevus fished a bottle from one of her satchels, taking a long swig. She smacked her lips, content, and offered the bottle to Rumarin. 

  “What is it?” He asked, sniffing inquisitively. 

  “Black Briar mead.”

  “What’s a pretty thing like you doing all the way in Shimmerene?” 

  Aevus chuckled, stretching her slender arms. “It’s a long story.” 

  “I’ve got no plans. And I’m a good listener.” Rumarin offered, handing the bottle back to the dark elf. 

  “Well then I suppose I have no choice.” 

  “Besides. We’ll be up here awhile before we can get that drink. Otero is stubborn. Even by nord standards.” 

  “Fair enough.” Aevus replied. 

  Rumarin smiled her, and watched enthralled as she began her tale.


	2. II

The flask of black-briar downed, Otero gone, the sun beginning to set, and Rumarin knowing all about Aevus, the two sat in the tavern. Rumarin was absolutely smitten within seconds. Aevus was an ex thieves guild member run out from the group after a quarrel with the guildmaster, who had been making the pilgrimage from Skyrim over the past few months. He was amazed at how her eyes lit up when she spoke of adventuring, and how her hands led her words with every sentence. He was shocked at how easily he spilled himself to her. He was so eager to tell her everything about himself. Maybe it was the gentle understanding in her eyes, or the way she leaned her chin on her hands and leaned closer to him. 

  The table lined with their combined drinks, the space between them gone as they drifted closer to one another in the haze of stories and alcohol. 

  The bar had emptied, and Ruamarin sighed softly. 

  “Tonight has been…” He ended up laughing, and Aevus joined in. 

  “Yeah. It has.”

  “And just think...You had your doubts.” 

  “I did.” Aevus admitted. “But...I never turn down a drink.” 

  “Well...That wasn’t the only reason, was it?” Rumarin pressed. 

  Aevus blushed a little. “Okay I suppose...You’re kind of charming. And handsome…” 

  “I believe the name ‘pretty boy’ was bandied about.” 

  Aevus smiled, giving me a soft push.

  “Alright you lovebirds. Out.” The barman said, slapping his wash cloth over his shoulder. 

  “No no no.” Chuckled the high elf. “We’re not...I mean-” 

    “Don't care. Out.” 

  The two stumbled out into the dead street, only the moon to guide their way. 

    “You seemed awfully offended when the bartender thought we were together.” Aevus noted. 

    Rumarin felt his stomach churn. Gods no he’d ruined everything. “What? No I...I only said that because...Well I mean it’s not because I wouldn’t like to be with you it’s just…” The elf tugged at his collar, and wiped his palms down his robes as he spoke. “I didn’t think that...You-You know.” 

  Aevus gave him a wicked grin, and laughed softly. “For someone who convinces people he’s an arcane master everyday you’re not very good with words.” 

  “But I am an arcane master.” 

  “Sure you are.” Aevus scoffed. She then did something the high elf was not prepared for. She arched up on the tips of her toes, and ever so lightly placed her lips to his cheek. His eyes went wide, and his heart fluttered in his chest. 

  “Good night, Rumarin.” she said, winking at him and turning to leave.

  He watched her, dumbfounded as she sauntered off. 

  “Good night!” He finally replied, but Aevus was long gone, and only his echo answered.

  
  


  Rumarin drifted through the night, his cheek still aflame with Aevus’ lips. He stumbled in to his parents campsite, and they instantly began yelling at him. 

  “Where the hell have you been?!” Relen demanded, taking his son roughly by the shoulders. 

  Rumarin only laughed, still dizzy with desire. “I think it was the tavern...But it also could have been heaven.” 

  “The boys drunk.” Vivek noted. 

  “You were with that girl weren't you, lad?” Otero said from beside the fire. 

  “What’s it matter if I was?” 

  “She’s a dark elf.” Otero said. 

  Relen and Vivek launched into an angry rebuke. They began screaming about how there was no way their son would be with a dark elf. An inferior race, a dirty rotten thief, a good for nothing drifter. 

  On and on they went about Aevus, each of their hate-filled jabs fuelling Rumarin’s own anger. 

  “Who are you to judge her?” He demanded. “You beg for spare coins while you desperately prance about the corners of cities we’ve snuck in to!” 

  “What we do is an honest craft.” Relen

   “Honest? Ha! I’ve seen you bribe guards to continue letting you perform. I’ve seen your nimble little fingers slip into the pockets of the audience.” Rumarin narrowed his gaze at his father. “Do not preach of honesty to me.”

  “We are high elves. The pinnacle of mer.” Vivek said. 

  “And yet all of Tamriel hates us equally!” Rumarin screamed. 

  Relen opened his mouth to speak, but instead scoffed. “You don’t know what youre talking about.” 

  “Don’t I?” Rumarin protested. “I’ve been all across this land. I’ve heard the insults thrown our way. Knife ears, twiggy, root muncher, daedra worshipping filth. The men and the beasts spew these words at ALL elves. But no one...Nords, cats, Bretons, Imperials, orcs, lizards...None of them hate us as much as we all hate each other.”

  Unable to argue, Vivek and Relen dropped their gazes to the floor. 

  “Otero. When was the last time Nords fought elves?” 

  The jester scratched his beard. “Well...The nords attacked the Falmer once...And...In the first era they killed a small group of mages who were high elves protecting the gates in to Skuldafn.” 

  “And when was the last time elves fought other elves?” Rumarin asked, shooting his enraged eyes at his father. 

  He saw fear strike across Relen’s face, as visions of war flashed behind his eyelids. 

  “They’re always fighting.” Rumarin said. “Even now, a battle wages in the east. Wood elves and dark elves. High elves and wood elves. Dark elves and high elves.”

  Rumarin sighed heavily, ending his speech of justice. “This hate stops here. I will continue to see a dark elf, whether you approve or not.” 

  Relen nodded. “I leave that choice to you, Rumarin.” 

  “Good.” Feeling satisfied, and more powerful than he ever had, Rumarin started to his tent. “I suppose now is a good time to say I love her then.” He shot over his shoulder before ducking inside to escape any more lectures his proclamation may have sparked. 


	3. III

-Some years later- 

  “Isn’t it wonderful, Ru?” Aevus asked with a wistful sigh as the carriage rumbled across the gate threshold into Shimmerene. 

  “What? What’s so special about Shimmerene?” Rumarin teased, smiling widely as he received a playful smack from his wife. 

  “Well you damn well almost died here.” Vivek said, snapping the horse's reins.

  “Twice.” Relen added. 

  “Actually...Probably closer to three.” Aevus corrected. 

  “Okay it wasn't my luckiest day but I did not brush death three times.” 

  “Sure you did.” Relen said. “Once from the storm atronach, which would have undoubtedly turned you into dust if Aevus hadn’t of been there. Again when Otero was chasing you. Trust me, my boy. That jester would have torn you to pieces if he caught you.” 

  Rumarin laughed sadly, in memory of the old jester. 

  “... And again when you stumbled drunk back to camp professing your love about a dark elf. I was ready to strangle you.” 

  “Oh.” Rumarin remarked, biting at his nail.

  “Of course that feels like a century ago.” Relen continued. “I’m glad I didn't kill you. If I did I never would have such an incredible daughter in law.” He reached over, holding Aevus’ hand lovingly. 

  “You’re too kind, Relen.” She said. 

  “We also wouldn't have the prospect of a grandchild.” Vivek said, casting her gaze backwards at Aevus’ round belly.

  “In all of this you haven't once mentioned the fact that you would not have a son.” 

  “You...We could do without you.” Relen teased. 

  The woman laughed, much to Rumarin’s dismay.

  Halting to a stop, Rumarin leapt from the carriage and offered a hand to his wife. 

  “Why don’t you two go to the market and pick up some fresh vegetables for dinner?” Vivek offered. “Your father and I will set up.” 

  “Great idea.” Rumarin beamed, linking arms with Aevus. “Maybe we can even stop by the tavern and-” 

  He was cut short by Aevus’ angry jab. 

   “-and not buy any mead because we’re in this together and if Aevus can’t drink I can’t drink.” 

  “Very good, Rumarin.” Aevus praised sarcastically. 

  “Goody. Can I get a sweet at the market?” He said with a snort.

  All the way through town, the couple received looks of disdain. 

  “Maybe we shouldn’t act so...Together.” Aevus said, shifting nervously at her husband's side. 

  “Never. I love you. To oblivion with what they think.” He leaned down, giving her a sweet kiss on the cheek. “Let them stare.” 

   She relaxed slightly, her hand instinctively going to her stomach. She knew Shimmerene was better than most elven cities as far as racism went; But still she felt fear beneath the cities hateful gaze

  “Why must our child be born into such hate?” Aevus asked quietly as Rumarin plucked tomatoes from a cart. 

  “Our child will live in a house of love.” He said simply. “I promise you. Only a few more months of this, and we’ll have enough gold to buy a farm somewhere. Somewhere far away from the cities and their narrow minds.” 

  “I hope it’s only a few months.” Aevus murmured. She looked down at her rounded midsection. “I hope you can wait that long.” 

 

  -That night-

  “Have you spoken to the guards?” Rumarin asked his father as they sat around the slowly dying fire. 

  “Yes. They’ve given us three days.” 

  “That’s not enough time.” Rumarin groaned. “We’ll never make enough septims in three days.” 

  “Worst case, we head north. We can spend a day or two in the smaller villages. Maybe scrounge up the rest.” Relen said.

  “The villages are even worse than the cities. Shimmerene is the safest place for Aevus right now. And even then she can’t stay here. The thalmor are everywhere.” 

   “They won’t take her, Rumarin. You won’t let that happen and neither will I.” 

   Rumarin heaved a long sigh, and rubbed at his heavy eyelids. “They could strike at any moment. No one knows how long they’ll allow the migration to continue.”  

  “Ru-Rumarin?” 

   The high elf whipped around, and saw Aevus standing at the opening of their tent. 

  “What is it my love?” He asked worriedly. 

  She gripped her stomach, and then he noticed the blood which stained down the front of her dress. 

  “Oh no.” He rushed to her side, hands shaking and his heart pounding with fear. “Mother! Mother wake up!” 

  Vivek was quick to scramble from her tent, and even quicker to realize what was happening. 

  “It’s alright, Aevus. Back in the tent my dear.” 

  “Is-Is the baby alright?” She muttered. Her dark face had paled, and she could barely keep her eyes open as she collapsed back on to her bedroll. Rumarin stared horrified as his mother tended to his wife. 

  “Mother what’s happening?” 

  “The baby is coming.” She said simply. 

  “No!” Aevus wailed. “It can’t come yet. It’s too soon. 

  “Shhh. you have to be quiet.” Vivek cautioned. “Something’s wrong with the baby. It’s coming but it’s not ready. Aevus’ body is trying to stop it, and she’s killing it.” 

  “Gods no!” Aevus cried. 

  “Relen get me some boiling water and the sheets from our bed.” 

  Relen ran off, while his son stood frozen at the tent entrance.

  “Rumarin run to the tavern and see if they have any health potions.” 

  “Health-Health potions?” 

  “I am not sugar coating this for you. Aevus could die. As could your child. You have to get those potions.” 

  “Okay...Okay I’m going.” He sniffed back tears, and ran full throttle into the darkness.  

  Stragglers from the closing shops and inns stumbled in the streets, and shouted slurred words at Rumarin as he whizzed by. 

   “Please don’t be closed. Please dont be closed.” He gasped as he skittered around a corner. He saw the tavern up ahead, the light still on. But the barman had his hand on the door, and was shutting it slowly. 

  “Stop!” Rumarin screamed out, crashing against the brick of the tavern. 

  “”We’re closed, boy. Be on your way.” 

  “No please. I need health potions. Please tell me you have some.” 

  “I’m closed. I can't sell you any.” 

  “This is an emergency!” Rumarin yelled. “I have gold! Take it! Take it all I just need those potions.” 

  The barman gave him a sympathetic look, and then grunted. “Wait here.” 

  Rumarin buzzed with anxiety as the barman retreated back inside. He returned with an arm load of glass vials. 

  “Thank you! Thank you a million times! How much do I owe you?” 

  “Just give me fifty septims in the morning. If all goes well. If not...They're on the house.” 

  With that, Rumarin ran back the way he came, pleading with the gods to protect his wife. 

  When he finally made it back to the camp, he could hear Aevus’ muffled screams. 

  “Here are the potions.” He said, crashing to his knees beside Aevus and dropping the vials next to his mother. He held his wife’s cold hand, and tears stained down his cheeks. 

   “It’s alright, Aevus.” He cooed, stroking the damp hair from her forehead. “Everything is going to be alright. I promise.” 

  “Don’t say that, Ru!” Aevus whispered furiously. “You can’t promise anything.” 

  “It will be! I know it.” 

  Aevus gave another blood curdling scream, which Rumarin stifled with his hand. 

  As that wave of agony passed, she stared glassy eyed up at her husband. “You have to promise me you’ll take the baby. Take it north. To Skyrim, to Cyrodiil, to Hammerfell. Just anywhere but here.” 

  “We’ll go together.” Rumarin said, his voice cracking. 

  Aevus writhed in pain, as Vivek grunted with exertion. 

  “Push, my dear.” 

  “I am!” Aevus shot. 

  “Keep it down! She’ll wake the city!” Relen whispered furiously from outside.

  “It’s stuck.” Vivek muttered, fuming with rage as she uncorked another health potion. “Drink this, Aevus.” 

  Rumarin aided her in gulping down the red liquid. 

  “I’ll have to cut it out.” Vivek said simply, reaching for a knife. “Rumarin heat this up.   

  With unsteady hands he took the blade, and allowed fire to jet from his palm and caress the blade. 

  “Gods above.” Aevus moaned, preparing herself for the impending pain. 

  “There.” Rumarin said, returning the knife to his mother. 

  She gripped it, taking a deep breath. “Hold her down, Ru.” She ordered. “And cover her mouth.” 

  He did as she asked, and braced as Aevus bucked with pain. 

   The sickening slurp of the knife cutting flesh was all that could be heard as Aevus screamed into Rumarin’s hand. He squeezed his eyes shut, whispering over and over that everything would be alright.

  After what felt like hours, there was silence. And Aevus went still. 

  Terrified, Rumarin opened his eyes. He released Aevus, and shot his eyes from her to his mother. 

  She let out a breathy laugh, and turned to face her son with teary eyes. “It’s a girl.” 

  “A girl?” Rumarin repeated. Suddenly a soft cry pierced the silence. He smiled, though he too began to cry. Vivek raised the child up for Rumarin to see. 

  He lost his breath at the sight of her. Her new skin was gold like his, and from the top of her head sprouted thick dark hair like Aevus’. 

  “Oh...She’s...She’s perfect.” His eyes fell back to his wife, and his lips quivered.  “Oh Aevus she’s perfect.” He fell against her, kissing her damp forehead. He sobbed quietly against her, his heart aching with confusion over what he should feel. 

  “S-She?” 

  Rumarin rejoiced at the tickle of Aevus’ breath across his skin, and he cupped her cheek in his hand. “Yeah.” He laughed, kissing her again. “She.” 

  “Huh.” Aevus swallowed hard, blinking slowly. “You owe me fifty septims then.” She said. 

  He chuckled, wiping at his cheeks and once more brushing his lips against hers.

  “Here she is.” Vivek said, passing the swathed bundle over to Aevus. 

  Aevus propped herself up, wincing in pain. Rumarin held her in his arms, supporting her as she cradled their daughter. 

  She squirmed a little, stretching her tiny arms over her head and relaxing her chubby face as she cuddled into her mother. 

 Her eyes flickered open, revealing bright emerald orbs that burned into Rumarin. 

  “You have your Da’s eyes.” Aevus cooed. 

  She stared directly at the high elf, instilling him with a love he could not describe. In that moment he was ready to die for her. He would protect her for as long as he drew breath. No one would ever hurt her. 

  He ran his hand gently across her black hair, cosseting her tiny cheek with his thumb. 

  “What shall we call her?” Aevus asked, kissing the baby’s small hands. 

  “I don’t know. I didn’t pick any girl names.” 

  Aevus laughed softly, looking up at her husband. “Surely we can think of something.” 

  “Well...It wasn’t easy for her to get here.” 

  “It was no picnic for me either.” 

  Rumarin smiled. “What about something in Dunmeri?” 

  Aevus made a noise of disgust. “Absolutely not. My language is terrible. I’d like her to at least like her own name.” 

  “Your name isn’t bad.” 

  “Yeah. Because it’s not in Dunmeri.” 

  “Hmm…”

  “Altmeri is nice, Pick a name, Ru.” 

  “What about…” He pondered, as the baby swung her arms about.

  “Rixa.” 

  Aevus and Rumarin glanced upwards, where Relen was staring at them with a smile. 

  “It means ‘Brawler’.” He explained. “And from the looks of it...that’s what she’ll be.” 

  “Rixa.” Aevus whispered. 

  The baby made a long noise, almost as if she was agreeing. 

  “I suppose that's a yes...In the infant tongue.” Rumarin said.

  “Rixa it is then.” Aevus chuckled. “Rixa Cinis.” 

  Rumarin smiled down at his wife and child, pulling them both closer. 

  For a moment, the family felt miles away from the world. Their tiny tent pitched in the centre of Shimerene felt as if it were a land all it’s own, devoid of hate or prejudice. Between the three of them, a high elf, a dark elf, and their mixed child, there was only love.

  -three years later- 

  “No no! Rixa you cannot run from Da!” Rumarin chased after the giggling toddler as she waddled through the sand which lined the road. He scooped her up, blowing raspberries on her cheek as he held her. She wriggled wildly in his arms, screaming with delight. 

  “Come on, you two. We’re almost at the border.” Relen called from the carriage. 

  “Alright, Rixa, run to Ma now.” He set her back down on the ground and watched as she toddled back to Aevus.

  “Ma!” Rixa yelled, clasping her tiny hands and grunting to be picked up again.

  Aevus grinned, obliging and sitting Rixa on her hip as she squinted back to Rumarin. “Hurry up.” 

  He jogged over, smiling at his wife. “Let’s be off then. Our new life awaits.” 

He helped Aevus up into the back of the carriage, and sighed contently as he walked alongside.

  “Only an hour longer. And we’ll be in Valenwood.” Vivek said

  “Good. I could use a drink.” Rumarin noted. 

  “You're not the only one.” Added Aevus.

  The ocean to their right, and the last stretches of cyrodiil to their left, the group buzzed with excitement as the promise of freedom grew closer with every clop of the horse's hoof.

  Finally, the stone gates to Valenwood were visible, and Vivek snapped the horses into a bouncy trot. 

  Chuckling, Rumarin ran alongside, much to Rixa’s delight. She clapped her hands, and squealed “Faster Da! Faster!” 

   His breath coming short, he was glad when they stopped just before the gates for inspection. 

   “Where is everyone?” Vivek asked. 

  Rumarin came to the front of the carriage, perplexed to find the border vacant. No guards, nor sign of anyone. 

  “Odd…” He muttered.

  “I don’t like this.” Relen said. “Keep going, Viv. But stay sharp.” 

  Rumarin conjured a sword, stepping lightly across the stone line separating Cyrodiil and Valenwood. 

  As soon as his foot touched down on the rich soil, the heavy wooden doors of the gate barracks swung open. In a flash of gold, and the fizz of magic, Rumarin was surrounded by an armada of High Elf warriors. They threatened him with swords and flame, and donned elven armor and the cloaks of the Thalmor. 

  “Damn.” Rumarin cursed beneath his breath. 

  “Sheathe your weapon!” 

   He slowly let the sword disintegrate in his hand, and heard the horses behind him stir. 

  “What business do three high elves have in Valenwood?” One of the thalmor said.

  Rumarin glanced over his shoulder, seeing only his parents sitting in the cart. 

  “Don’t look at them. Look at me!” The thalmor demanded. 

Breathing a sigh of relief, he returned his attention to the soldiers. “We’re troubadours. We’re just passing through on our way to elsweyr.” 

  “Troubadours…” The soldier repeated. “Is that so?” 

  “Yes, sir.” Rumarin replied politely. 

  “You see there are rumors of high elves like yourselves harbouring dunmer refugees. Smuggling them back to Morrowind.” 

  “Really?” Relen piped in, putting on his best clueless voice. 

  “Traitors!” Vivek yelled. 

  “Indeed.” The soldier said. “Both of you come down. We have to search the cart.” 

  “Sir you will only find silly toys.” Relen chuckled. “What could we possibly be hiding?” 

  “Only the eight know.” The soldier mumbled. He snapped at Rumarin. “Unhook the horses.” 

  Rumarin turned around, and nodded to his father. Relen nodded back, and took the reins from Vivek. 

  Forcefully, Rumarin smacked the horses on the rear, and shouted at them to get them jolting forward. The cart crashed through the thalmor, and wobbled down the road. 

  Summoning his sword back, Rumarin tangled with the Thalmor as the launched their attack. 

   “After them!” One of the soldier commanded, and half the group went racing down the road.

  Rumarin tried his best to cut through those who stayed behind, slashing and casting every spell he knew their way. He managed to kill two, but found himself being taken down by the remaining three as they flanked him from behind. They pinned him to the dirt, and he watched helplessly as flames hit the horses and sent the cart careening out of control. 

   “No!” Rumarin cried out, resisting against the soldiers.  

   The carriage crashed, and Rumarin screamed as he desperately tried to escape. 

  “No! Help them, please!” 

  He watched as Aevus crawled out from beneath the overturned cart, clutching Rixa closely to her chest. 

  Vivek and Relen scrambled to get between the dark elf and the Thalmor, raising blades and sparks against them. 

  “Stand down!” They ordered. 

  When they remained stoic, the thalmor began attacking.

  “Stop!” Rumarin yelled. He thrashed in the dirt, and managed to escape his captors. He scrambled into a run, only to be tackled again. As he hit the ground, so did his father. A sword protruded from his chest, and blood poured from his mouth. 

  “No!” Rumarin wailed. “Father!” 

   Vivek collapsed next to her husband, sobbing as she did. Without mercy, one of the soldiers swung his sword and removed her head. 

   Rumarin cried out in anguish, as the soldiers descended on his wife and daughter. 

  “Put the child down!” 

  Aevus did as she was told, holding Rixa’s hand as the child cried quietly. With a sword at her back, the soldiers guided Aevus back to the border.

 Rumarin was forced to his feet, and lined up beside Aevus.

  He took Rixa’s other hand, feeling helpless to protect her.

 “You are hereby charged with harbouring a refugee, illegal immigration, and resisting arrest.” The thalmor soldier looked disdainfully down at Rixa. 

  “Is this your child?” 

   Rumarin only stared definantly at the soldier, enraged. 

   “Answer him!” Another soldier ordered, hitting Rumarin with the butt of his sword. 

  He winced, blood dripping from the opened wound in the back of his head. “Yes.”

  “You are also charged with fornication with a dunmer.” 

  “That’s not against the law!” Aevus protested. 

   “Quiet! You all will be transported back to the Summeset Isle. The child will be disposed of. And the two of you will be sentenced to the mines as slaves for the rest of your natural lives.”

   “You will a kill a child for simply being born?!” Aevus screamed, receiving a blow to the head.

  “Stop that!” Rumarin pleaded, pulling Rixa close to him, and reaching for Aevus.

  “That child is an abomination to the race of Altmer. Therefore...It must be destroyed.”

   The soldiers bound the family’s hands, and marched them back across the border. 

   “Da…” Rixa whimpered. “Where are we going?” 

  “It’s alright, Rixa.” Rumarin said, tears dripping down his cheeks. “Everything will be alright.” The words hung around Rumarin’s head, slicing his desecrated emotive barrier, as the first lie he told his daughter.


	4. IV

As the Thalmor soldier had said, Rumarin and his family were sent back to Shimmerene. Upon their arrival they found the outskirts of city they had left behind was in shambles. The once bustling and colorful trading centre had morphed into the last standing ray of hope in a sea of decrepit military encampments. The lush fields which surrounded the proud walls had been dug up, and were filled with deep dark holes that spilled ore into the harsh smeltery above. Dark elves toiled beneath the scream and whip of high elf masters, ragged and skeletal. The stench of death was thick in the air, no doubt a product of the very active chopping block at the city gates. Thick black smoke billowed up from a reeking fire. A fire of those executed. 

  Rumarin, too drained to even shed a tear, instead felt his heart shatter once more as he witnessed his daughter’s fate. 

  The carriage rumbld through the grim scene, the chains of the other prisoners rattling. Rixa, laden with chains of her own, clutched at her mother. Singing a song of nonsense she twisted braids into Aevus’ hair. 

  “I’m so sorry.” Rumarin said, burying his face in his dirty hands. 

  “Why?” Aevus asked, not looking at her husband. 

  Rumarin glanced up at his previously beaming wife. Her once smooth dark skin was caked in dirt and blood. Her usually rosy cheeks had lost all palour, and were sunk into the rest of her face. And the eyes of ruby Rumarin so adored had greyed over. Instead of gracing him with their gentle understanding they stared forward unblinking and glassed. 

  “I promised I would protect you. I promised a better life for us all. And now…” He kicked at the wood of the carriage, boiling with hatred. 

  “Keep it down back there!” The driver ordered. 

  Rumarin let loose a chest cracking cough, as he inhaled the smoke and stench filled air. 

  “Da sick?” Rixa asked, pressing her tiny palm to her father’s cheek. 

  He smiled a little, shaking his head. “No, child. Da is alright.” 

     “Look how pretty Ma’s hair is, Da.” Rixa grinned as she held up the scraggly braid. 

    “Yes. You did a good job.” Rumarin praised. 

    “I braid your hair now.” The child reached for her father, and Aevus passed her gently over. 

  Rumarin held his daughter more firmly as the carriage rumbled to a stop. 

  “Line up!” One of the soldiers commanded. 

  The prisoners filed off the back of the carriage, one by one. An official looking Thalmor agent with a large scroll and feather quill awaited them. He would glance at each prisoner, ask their names, and point them either left or right. 

  Right was the mines. Left was the chopping block. 

  Inching closer to their impending doom, Rumarin felt his heart leap into his throat. Every step closer he gripped Rixa tighter. Aevus stood behind him, her hand holding his. 

  The old dark elf in front of Rumarin bowed his head, and walked proudly to the left, as his wife on the right screamed for him before being dragged into the mines. 

  “Next.” The thalmor called. 

  Swallowing hard, Rumarin stepped forward.

  “Name?” 

  “Rumarin Cinis.” He answered quietly.

  “And the little one...Is she yours?”

  “Yes. Rixa.” 

  “Rixa.” The thalmor repeated with a slight chuckle. “With a name like that she’ll make a fine worker.” 

  Rumarin felt himself relax, but only slightly. She wouldn't die...Not today anyway. The agent removed their binds. 

  “To the mines with you two!” The Thalmor agent said, gesturing to the right. 

  Rumarin glanced back at Aevus, who gave him a meek smile. He slowly began to walk to the mines, waiting for Aevus. 

  “Name?” 

  “Meden.” She replied. 

  Confused, Rumarin looked back at Aevus. She stared defiantly at the agent, who was studying her with a hunger Rumarin didn't like.

  “Your full name?” He pressed. 

  “Meden Zanfar.” 

  “What are you doing?” Rumarin muttered. 

  “You’re morrowind born and bred aren't you?” the agent said with a disgusting grin. “What did they nab you for?” 

  Aevus said nothing, only continued her staredown. 

  “Answer me!”

  Still, she said nothing. 

  “Hmph.” The agent sighed angrily, scribbling on his scroll. He grabbed her chin in his hands, inspecting her teeth, and turning her face to look at every angle.. “A pretty one aren't you...A shame you’ve decided to be so defiant. To the block!”

   “No…” Rumarin started back to the lineup, as Aevus walked to her doom. “Aevus no…” He started drifting after her, only to be stopped by two soldiers. 

  “To the mines they said.” 

   Aevus looked back at Rumarin, her face clouded with a mixture of fear and sadness. He stared at he wild eyed, begging for an explanation. She only nodded to him and Rixa, a single tear carving it’s way down her cheek. 

  “Ma?” Rixa whined a little, beginning to squirm. 

  “Shhh...It’s alright.” Rumarin said, tears pouring from his own eyes. 

He turned his back on Aevus, trying to retain his composure.” 

  “Ma! Ma!” Rixa wailed, thrashing about in her father's arms. 

   “Rixa no.” Rumarin sobbed, tucking the child's head in to him. “Please be quiet.”

    “I want ma!” Rixa then launched herself out of her father's arms, and started running towards the block.  

   “Rixa no!” Rumarin stumbled after her, only to be stopped again by the guards. “No! Rixa!” He screamed. Running on instinct, Rumarin threw a wild haymaker at the guards face. His highbridged nose gave way with a satisfying crunch. Rumarin kicked at the other guard, elbowing him hard in the neck. Free, Rumarin went for Rixa. 

   Aevus had a hold of her, and there was a moment where the camp was still. The thalmor scribe stared dumbfounded at Aevus and Rixa, Aevus looked at Rumarin, and the prisoners looked at the fallen guards. 

  Then, in an uproar of screams and the rattling of chains, the rebellion began. Prisoners threw themselves against the oncoming soldiers, and within seconds the orderly camp turned into a battlefield. 

   “Aevus!” Rumarin called out, pushing through the chaos. 

He found her huddled behind a cart, Rixa crying in her arms. “We have to go come on!” 

  “No.” Aevus said, taking Rumarin’s face in her hand. “Take Rixa.” 

  “What are you talking about? I’m not leaving you!” 

  “Ru.” She said quietly. “She’ll be safe with you. She can pass as a high elf.” 

  “I-I can't do this without you.” Rumarin sobbed, refusing to let go of his wife.

  Explosions sounded in the distance, and a group of Thalmor soldiers were cutting through the unruly prisoners with ease.

  “Keep her safe, Rumarin.” Aevus pleaded. 

  “Aevus this is crazy. We can go north...there has to be another way.” Rumarin was desperate for a solution, crazed in an effort to keep his family together. 

  Aevus kissed her husband passionately, infusing him with every ounce of love she could spare. “We’ll meet again, my love.” She assured him. She held Rixa tightly once more, kissing the child's head before giving her to Rumarin. 

  “Ma?” Rixa questioned. 

  “Ma loves you.” Aevus whimpered, smiling sadly at her daughter. 

  “There! Stop the half breed!” a soldier yelled. The armada started towards them, and Aevus pushed at Rumarin. 

  “Go!” Aevus screamed. She then turned and ran full pelt into the fray. Taking four soldiers down with her. 

  No time to mourn as the soldiers fell into a pile of violence, Rumarin ran. As fast and as hard as he could, he ran toward the city gates. 

   “Come on.” He muttered between breaths. “Come on.” 

   He could see the outline of Shimmerene on the horizon, the standing promise of safety and security. 

  His escape was brought to a screeching halt, as an arrow pierced the bend of his knee. 

  He cried out, crashing to the dirt as his legs failed him. 

   “Damn!” He fumed, as Rixa toddled to her feet. 

   “Da!” She whined, taking his hand and trying to pull him up. “Come! Come!” 

   “Rixa…” Rumarin winced, trying to pull himself up. He put his hands on her shoulders and looked deeply into the forest green eyes that echoed his own. 

   “You have to run, my child.” Rumarin said painfully. “To the city. Stay there, and Da will come and find you.” 

   Tears poured down Rixa’s eyes as she tried desperately to pull her father along. “You said not to run from Da.” She cried, stamping her feet in anger. 

  “I know what I said, Rixa. But you have to listen to what I’m saying now.” He cracked the arrow off, moaning in pain as he did.   

   The thalmor were coming closer. Rumarin could hear the clank of their armour and the hum of their spells. 

   “Da please!” Rixa whined some more. 

   “Run, Rixa!” Rumarin screamed at his daughter. The child jumped back from him, fear striking across her sad face. 

   “Run!” He repeated, and found himself sobbing with her. 

   Looking absolutely terrified, Rixa did as her father asked. 

   “Gods protect her.” Rumarin begged, casting his misted eyes to the smoke filled sky. “Keep her safe.” 

  He watched as Rixa stumbled through the tall grass, disappearing over the slight incline. He let his head fall into the dirt, his tears mingling with the stinking earth. 

   He only hoped he could keep his promise. He hoped he would find a way back to Shimmerene should death spare him on that day. 

   “Where is the child?” One of the soldiers demanded, pressing a sword to his back. 

   Rumarin rolled over, looking up at the High Elf. “She’s gone.” He said. “You won’t ever find her.” 

  The soldier cursed, turning to his commander. “What now?” 

  “Was this the one who was trying to get into Valenwood?”

  “Yes sir.” 

  The commander stood over Rumarin, a sly smile pulling at his lips. “Send him back. He won’t ever find the child either.” 


	5. V

Rumarin wiped away the sweat that gathered at his brow, his hardened hands aching as the end of the day drew near. He swung at the vein of ore, as he had for nearly 80 years, and would for the rest of his life. He recalled the first years, where he was filled with rage, and desperation. He remembered how many times he had tried running. 

  Running to where, he did not know. Just running as far from the mines as he could, relying on his every footfall to take him back to Shimmerene where he prayed Rixa still awaited him. 

  Each time he would be inflated with hope, eyes locked on the horizon as he bolted towards the setting sun. 

  Each time he would hope for only two things: 

  Escape, or death. 

  But the Thalmor agent kept his promise. Rumarin was kept alive, doomed to live knowing he would never see his child again. 

  “Rixa.” He mumbled, as the trumpet blast signaled for the end of the day. She would be a woman now...If she survived that is…

  He sighed heavily, trodding to his bed further up the mineshaft. The greatest pain was not knowing. If he could be assured of her survival, he would be happy. She was safe, his job was over. But if she were dead…

  “No use thinking of that now.” He said to himself.

  “Cinis!” someone called from the mine entrance. 

  The old elf looked up, squinting against the dying day. 

  “Front and centre.” The soldier barked. 

  He did as he was told, shuffling to the surface. “What is it?” 

  The soldier looked furious, and held a sack in one hand, and a scroll in the other. He snapped open the scroll, and began to read. “By order of General Tullius, commander of the Imperial Army, saviour of Cyrodiil and lord of the seven isles...All prisoners captured in the Auroran Exile are hereby declared free men under the White-Gold Concordat. No argument of their citizenship may be questioned, nor revoked.”

   Rumarin gaped at the solider, who heaved a long sigh. “You...You mean…”

   The soldier thrust the sack at the elf, still glaring. “Congratulations, Cinis. You’re a free elf.” 

  Stunned, Rumarin pawed through the sack. His old robes, his books, his wedding ring...He twisted the gold band onto his finger, feeling tears well in his eyes. “This has to be some kind of sick joke.” He whispered, pleading with the soldier as he sobbed.

  “I wish.” The soldier muttered. He stepped aside, gesturing to a horse. “Consider it a gift from the empire.”

   Rumarin stumbled closer to the horse, still reeling with disbelief. 

   The soldier saluted Rumarin as he mounted the horse. “Blessing of the eight upon you.” He chirped, and turned to leave. 

  Rumarin held the reins in his weather worn hands, gazing into the setting sun as he did so often. West…

  “Shimmerene.” He murmured. “Rixa.” with that, he snapped the reins, and galloped off. 

  
  


  Rumarin cut the trip in half, barely stopping to sleep or eat in his travels. The only thing on his mind was Rixa. He prayed silently to the gods as he rode, begging them to show him benevolence and allow his daughter to still be alive and well. 

   As Shimmerene rose up from the sea of grass, he only pushed the horse harder. He shook with anticipation, nearly falling from the beast as he halted to a stop in front of the gates. He crashed across the threshold, falling through the crowd blindly as he searched for a familiar face or building. He saw the tavern he’d visited the night Rixa was born, and beelined for it. If Rixa was any child of his, she would be in the tavern after a long day's work. The place was buzzing with merriment, but silenced as Rumarin burst in. Ragged, and looking crazed, he went to the barman. 

   “What can I help you with, stranger?” He said. 

   “I-I-I’m looking...Looking for someone.” He swallowed hard. “I haven't been to Shimmerene in...In years but…” He stared at the barman, and found him hauntingly familiar. “You...Your father...did he run this tavern before you?”

  “Sir I think you need to leave.” He said gruffly, leaving his place from behind the bar to escort Rumarin out. 

   “No please. I’m looking for my daughter. I left her many years ago and-” 

  “Not so fast, Henrik.” Someone called out. An elderly man limped forward, clutching a cane. He scratched his white beard, squinting at Rumarin with twinkling dark eyes. “I never forget a face.” He said, inspecting Rumarin. “Even that of a high elf.”

  “The night my child was born, you gave me health potions.” Rumarin said. “My wife and I...The night we met we drank right here in this bar.” 

  “Yes...Pretty lass...Dark elf.” He said. “Aye. I do remember you.” 

  “I’m looking for my daughter.” Rumarin said. “Her name is Rixa...She’s...She's beautiful. Just like her mother. She’s got dark hair, skin like mine...And...And green eyes. Just like these.” Rumarin pointed a shaky hand at his own eyes. 

  The old man nodded solemnly. “Yes. I know her. She’s partial to Blackbriar Mead, and she never could stay out of trouble.”

   “Thank the gods.” Rumarin chuckled, the years of uncertainty and sadness washing away. “Where is she? I must find her.”

   The old nord sighed, scratching his beard again. “She...She left. Must have been...5 or 6 winter’s back.”

   “Do you know where?” Rumarin asked. 

   “Skyrim.” He said. “She said she was going to Skyrim. Stocked up on mead before she left.”

   “Skyrim…” Rumarin repeated. “Thank you.” the elf exuberantly pulled the old man into a hug, unable to contain his joy. “Thank you so much. You don’t know how much this means to me.” 

   “Reuniting a father with his child does this old heart good.” He patted Rumarin’s shoulder, a wise smile pulling at his wrinkled lips. 

   Rumarin left the tavern, a spring in his step and his heart soaring. He looked into the clear blue sky, smiling sadly. “She’s alright, Aevus. Our girl is alright.”  


	6. VI

-Sicarius-

  “I’m telling you…” Serana continued, as she trailed me up the hill. “The barman totally ripped me off. And it’s because I’m a vampire.”

   I chuckled, shaking my head. “You understand my hesitance to accept your claim that the seventh bottle of argonian bloodwine you consumed was actually alto wine, and the barman deliberately poured out the bloodwine to replace it with alto wine, because you’re a vampire?” 

  “No. I don’t. Nords looooove you. But because they love you so much they hate vampires.” 

  I glanced over my shoulder at Serena, smiling gently. “That’s different. They love my family. They love the idea of my family. nobody hates you, Serana. Because I tolerate you, they must as well.” 

   She snorted, and then groaned. “Why do you always trek up hills? What happened to roads?”

   “The most incredible locations in all of Tamriel cannot be reached by road.” I said. 

  “Oh really? Because every bar I’ve ever been to has a road.”

  “Skuldafn, The Forgotten Vale, the Temple of Auriel, The top of the throat of the world...” I once more looked at Serana, and suppressed the urge to say ‘Dimhollow Crypt’. 

   “Well if they're so great why doesn't someone build a road so everyone can enjoy them?”

   “You are impossible, Serana.” 

   “And you love it.” she teased, passing me with a sly smile. 

   I watched her clear the hill, sighing. “More than you know…” I mumbled. 

  “Hey Sic!” Serana yelled back.

  I ran forward to meet her at the top. “What is it?”

   “There's someone over there. Fighting the draugr.” She pointed a pale finger to the shambled ruins, where sparks and the glow of magic emanated within.

   I rubbed my chin, and glanced at Serana. “Your choice.”

   “Always assume until told otherwise that my choice is to investigate.” 

   I laughed, drawing my sword and starting towards the fight. I chopped at a few draugr that came my way, hearing the grunts of a failing warrior within. I gave a mighty shout, clearing away the remaining corpses. The scene settled, and a robed figure struggled to stand. 

   “Ah...Thank you…” The voice that drifted from beneath the hood was rich, and carried an authority only a high elf could muster. “I thought I had it...I guess I’m still a little rusty.”

   “Just a little.” I teased, offering a hand. He grasped it firmly with his, pulling himself up and brushing his robes off. He looked up at me, with forest green eyes. I was suddenly shocked at how much they reminded me of Rixa’s, but soon brushed off the notion the two were connected. After all...Green eyes were a common trait among the Altmer. 

   “Well that was easy.” Serana mused, drifting to my side. I watched as Serana had the same reaction to the strange elf, but she also dismissed it. “Oh. I didn't expect an elf to be caught in so much trouble.” 

   I shot her a glare, but was surprised when the high elf laughed. 

  “Running never worked for me before.” 

  “Your accent is very strong.” Serana noted. “New to skyrim?” 

  “Yes. Brand new. And not loving it, I will admit. I would be dead if not for you two.” He looked from Serana to me, and smiled. “You’re a peculiar couple.”

   “No no...We’re not a couple we’re just-” Serana gave a nervous laugh, and I only stood silent as my heart wrenched. 

  A sadness washed over the elf. “Oh...My mistake.” he quickly snapped out of it however, and began beaming again. “To whom do I owe my gratitude?”

   “My name is Serana.” The vampire said, giving a casual curtsey. 

  “Ah...A pleasure. I’ve never met a vampire before. I suppose you’re more widely accepted now than you used to be. I remember the last time I was in Skyrim, the Aesirs were hellbent on eliminating you.”

   Serana shot a sideways glance at me. 

   “And you are?”

   Serana sighed dramatically, as I launched into the time honored introduction of my ancestors.

   “I am Sicarius, Son of Skjoldur, of house Aesir. Risen under the first sun, descendant of the gods, first born of the new nirn.” 

   The elf chuckled. “Well then. I suppose the vendetta truly has ended. What’s an Aesir doing rescuing elves?”

   I eyed the elf suspiciously. “It’s...A long story. My family is...I am the last of my blood.” I said. 

   “Oh. what a shame. I hope you rise again. Apart from the vampire slaying your ancestors were lovely rulers.

    “Where are you from?” I asked, curious to know why he was so oblivious. 

   “Well first things first, my name is Rumarin. My parents were troubadours. We traveled all over. I…” He swallowed hard, and his eyes went misty. “In Shimmerene I met a dark elf named Aevus. We fell in love, and our daughter was born there…”

  I watched in awe as the elf told a tale of despair, where his wife was murdered, and he left his daughter before serving his years in a mine in Morrowind. Serana and I exchanged glances, as his tale tugged at our memory and eerily echoed the childhood our mixed-elf friend so desperately tried to recall. 

  “And now...I’m here. Searching for my child.” He finished. 

   “What was your daughter’s name?” Saran-wrap asked slowly. 

   Rumarin sighed wistfully, a smile tugging at his cheeks. “Rixa. Rixa Cinis. Her name means brawler. And from the little information I’ve gathered, shes lived up to her title.” 

  Serana chuckled a little. I looked at her, as she stifled another, and another...until finally she burst into laughter perhaps a little too loudly, bending at the hips as she keeled over with glee. 

  “Wh-what is funny?” Rumarin asked. 

  As Serana laughed, I couldn't help but crack a smile. 

  “I do hope this is not at my expense.” Rumarin said, sounding slightly annoyed. 

  “No. Not at all my friend.” I assured him. “It is often difficult to decipher what is funny to Serana. But...We know your daughter. Rixa is one of my dearest friends.”

   “Then you...You can take me to her?” Rumarin began to buzz with excitement, his eyes aflame with happiness. 

  “Yes. I would be glad to.” 

  “Gods be praised! Thank you, son of skjoldur. A thousand times thank you.” 

   Serana wiped at tears, gasping for breath as she recovered. 

   “Care to share with us what amuses you so?” I asked, raising my brows at her. 

   “Ah…” she blinked several times, still chuckling slightly as she recomposed herself. “It’s just...Rixa’s name translates to Brawling Destruction. Not only is it just...A perfect description of drunk Rixa... it’s almost as ambitious as your name, Mr God Born.” Serana gave me a smack on the pauldron, which I matched with an eyeroll and a sigh.

   “She’s not very articulate for a vampire.” Rumarin whispered.

  “She is still young…Sort of.” I said, guiding Rumarin out from the tomb entrance. 

  “Hey. When I was your age there were still dragons.” Serana said, jogging to catch up. 

  “There are dragons now.” I teased. 

   “Dragons?! In Tamriel?!” Rumarin gasped. 

   I patted the elf’s shoulder. “Let me tell you something Rumarin. I have fought daedra, gods, dragons, beasts of myth, vampires, a giant warrior made of ebony, and every dragon priest ever buried. I have faced horrors no mortal was ever meant to meet. I fear nothing. Except your daughter. Rixa is the only being in existence who has ever taken me down in combat.” 

   Rumarin’s eyes widened a little, partly from amazement, partly from fear. 

   “Believe me when I say, meeting a dragon is the very least of your worries.” 

  
  
  


-Rumarin- 

   “Here we are.” Sicarius said, as the carriage halted to a stop outside of Riften’s gates.

   Rumarin felt his stomach twist into knots

   Riften...Home of the Thieves Guild. The very same Guild his wife so desperately tried to escape, now led by his daughter. 

  He could hardly believe it. Rixa...His little girl, a master thief, and feared throughout Skyrim. Feared by a god-descended warrior at that.

  “Keep your head down, and your mouth shut until we reach the Ratway.” The vampire whispered to him, snapping up her hood. 

   Rumarin nodded, following the pair through the gates. 

   Not four steps past the threshold, and someone called out in an angered voice to the nord. 

   “Sicarius!” 

   “Maul.” The Aesir replied with a smile. 

   “I guess you're here for the brandy that came in?”

   “That...And I have a gift for your Guildmaster.” 

   “A gift?”  

   “Yes, Maul.”

   The vicious looking thug glanced at Rumarin suspiciously. “Who’s he?” 

   “He’s alright.” Serana said. “He’s with us.” 

   “Hmph. Go ahead then. Rixa’s in the Flagon.” 

   “As usual.” Sicarius said, continuing on.

   Through the streets, and down to the canal, the group tucked in to a reeking hole in the brick. 

   “What is this place?” 

   “The Ratway.” Sicarius said. “Underground system for the thieves.” Serana added The Ragged Flagon smells better I assure you.”

   On through the damp and dim tunnels, finally Rumarin was met with a solid wooden door.   

   “Wait here.” Sicarius said. He opened the door, and out flowed the sounds of cheer. Drink and food, music and stories. He slammed it shut behind him, leaving Rumarin in the gloom with the vampire.

   “It’s alright. Don’t look so scared.” Serana assured. 

   “With the tales that nord has told? How am I supposed to be calm?” 

   “Sicarius is lying. Rixa isn’t the only person who scares him.” 

   “How would you know what scares a man like that?” Rumarin asked, eyeing the Vampire. 

   She smiled, showing off her pearly fangs. “I’ve spent nearly 4 years with Sicarius. I’ve watched him carefully, learned all I can. Sicarius can face his future with the bravest of faces. He can fight anything that comes his way. It’s the past that scares him.”

   “Yes.” Rumarin felt sadness rush through him again. “I can understand his fear.” 


	7. VII

-Sicarius- 

   I gave a nod to Dirge as I passed him, beelining for Rixa’s table. She sat, as she always did, in J’zargo’s lap with a bottle of mead in one hand a ball of flame bouncing casually in the other. 

   “Sicarius! Just the man I wanted to see!” She tumbled to her feet, thrusting some mead at me and giving me a big hug. “These layabouts can't hold their liquor. But that god blood you got is great for shots.”

   “I’m not here to drink.” I said solemnly. 

   “The smoothskin denies a drink?” J’zargo gasped dramatically. “J’zargo never thought he would see the day.” 

   “Well then where’s Serana? She’s better with booze than you anyway.” 

   “Rixa.” I said softly, being as patient as I could with her. “You’re going to want to clear the bar. There’s someone here to see you.” 

    “Anyone who wants to see me can see me in my most comfortable setting.” She raised her bottle with a goofy smile. “With a drink in my hand!” 

   The thieves cheered, all of them taking a swig of their own brew. 

   “Rixa I am being serious.” I made sure to shoot her the look we’d perfected. One that said ‘listen to me, please.’ without having to say a word. 

   “Alright. Alright fine whatever. Clear out!” 

   There were noises of disappointment as the bar goers filed back into the cistern. 

    “J’zargo, you come with me. Rixa...Stay here.” I put the bottle of mead she’d given me back on the table. “You will need this.” 

   “What is happening, my friend?” J’zargo whispered as we walked back to the entrance. 

    “It’s Rixa’s father.” I said quietly. “He’s alive, and he has come all the way from Valenwood to find her.” 

    “Her father?” J’zargo murmured. “J’zargo has never met a lady’s father.” 

    “Well...You’re about to.”

 

-Rumarin- 

   Sicarius burst back through the door, making Rumarin jump. He was followed by a suave looking khajiit, who regarded the high elf with a sheepish smile. 

   “Rumarin. This is J’zargo. J’zargo, Rumarin.” 

   “A pleasure.” J’zargo purred, shaking Rumarin’s hand. 

   “Likewise.” 

   “Rixa’s waiting for you.” Sicarius said. 

   “Why did the smoothskin take J’zargo with him?” J’zargo asked. 

   “We are going to the Bee and Barb for a drink.” Sicarius said, smiling at me. “Good luck, Rumarin.” 

   Rumarin swallowed hard, wringing his hands together. 80 years he had been waiting for this moment...80 years he dreamed of what it would be like to finally see his daughter again…

  And now he was petrified, unable to take the step through the door to make his dreams reality. 

   Finally...After a long while fiddling, he pushed forwards. He found himself in a cavernous expanse, the scent of mead on the underground air, and candles lighting the gloom. A pool of water bubble beneath, a well worn path leading to a cluster of tables and a bar. He followed the path, turning the corner and…

  Sitting there, uncannily echoing her mother with her thieves guild armour and blackbriar mead clutched in her slender fingers, was Rixa. She stared into her drink, her foot tapping the stone restlessly. 

  Rumarin let out a soft gasp, and Rixa snapped her gaze up at him. 

  Like looking in a mirror, emerald eyes met his, and he felt tears beginning to well. 

  “Who are you?” She asked, leaning back in her chair, and cocking her head to one side. 

   Rumarin felt his heart shatter. How could she not remember? How could she forget him?

   “It’s-It’s me.” Was all he could manage as he took a careful seat across from her. 

   “Nice to meet you, Me.” Rixa said with a teasing smile. “Name’s Rixa. Care for a drink?” 

   “No I mean…” Rumarin wiped at his cheeks. “You don’t remember me?” 

   Rixa narrowed her gaze at him. “Were you...The mercenary I danced with in Markarth a few months ago?”

   Rumarin shook his head, and suddenly felt anger. Not at Rixa, but at himself. At the Thalmor, at the gods, at everything that led him to leave her. “Rixa...I am your father.” 

   A look of panic spread across her face, but was soon covered by a drink of mead and an uncomfortable smile. “That’s a bold claim.” She said. “And also a blatant lie.” She rose, stumbling from her seat. “I recommend you leave now.”

   “Rixa…” Rumarin stood quickly, catching his daughter's arm. 

She froze momentarily, and gazed up at the stranger. She couldn't deny that the high elf resembled her. From his ruggedly regal features to his flowing yet controlled gait. A part of her wanted to believe him. 

   The scared, lonely child she had tried so hard to suppress, who longed for the family she had never known. She only needed to accept his claim as truth, and years of sadness would melt away into oblivion. 

   But then there was the other part of her. The ever-guarded, cautious, untrusting part. The part that was forced to survive on her own, devoid of love and affection from such an early age. The part that wished for nothing more than a home, a place where she belonged. The part which cursed her parents for being absent, and subjecting her to such a horrid upbringing. 

   That part got the best of her, and she wrenched herself free of his grip. 

   “Leave.” She commanded. 

   Rumarin sighed heavily, but nodded. He took his time exiting the Flagon, scanning the place with an almost nostalgic eye. “Your mother would have been so proud of you.” He said, the sound of sadness thick in his words. “Her name was...Aevus. And I’m glad you grew up to be like her, and not like me.” 

   He left her then, and descended back from the darkness and into the sunny Riften streets. He meandered slowly to the tavern near the gate, cracking the wooden door open with an unenthused push of his arm. 

   He found Sicarius by his booming laughter, following the joyous sound to a table tucked in to the corner. 

   The groups merriment halted as they saw Rumarin. 

   “What happened?” Sicarius asked gently.

   “She...She doesn't remember.” He said. His brain still reeled in disbelief. His own child...The child he spent years worrying and trying desperately to return to…

   “Let me talk to her.” The nord said with a smile, rising from the table and taking the length of the bar in a few mighty strides. The slam of the door marked his departure, and Rumarin cast his forlorn gaze to the rough wooden table as he took Sicarius’ vacant seat. 

   The khajiit and the vampire were silent, simply sipping from their flagons and trying not to look at the depressed High Elf.

    Serana broke the silence first with a clearing of her throat. “So...J’zargo. Have you told Rumarin about how you’re his daughter’s furry lover?”

    The cat hissed at the vampires comment, making Rumarin laugh, and J’zargo shrink into his chair.

   “No. He failed to mention that.” Rumarin mused. “Don’t fret, my friend. Rixa was not born to the most ‘traditional’ of parents. You love who you love...The heart sees no race.” 


	8. VIII

 

-Sicarius-

   I entered the flagon with a caution, expecting to find an enraged and destructive Rixa tearing the place to pieces. But instead, I found it vacant, only some empty bottles to mark her presence there. I crossed the bar to the cistern entrance, scanning the beds for any sign of the elf.

   Finally, I spotted her, hunched over the guildmasters desk with parchment strewn across it’s surface.

   “Rixa?” I murmured, stepping closer to the desk. Her head snapped up, and she sniffed back the emotion which had marred her usually serene face. Her eyes dripped with a torrent of tears, her hands shook as they gripped the paper.

   “Wh-What do you want?” She kept her gaze fixed to the floor as she furiously wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

   I kneeled at her side, touching her arm softly. “What happened?”

   She pointed at the papers. “It’s...My mother. Or...Who this...Stupid High Elf said is my mother.”

   I glanced at the paper. A dossier containing all the thieves of years passed. “Aevus?” I read carefully.

   Rixa nodded. “What if he is my father?”

   “I believe he is.” I said.

   “Even if he is...He left me. He...He doesn't understand what that did to me. How much it…” She heaved an angered sigh, launching her half empty bottle at the stone wall.

   “He did not leave by choice, Rixa.”

   “How would you know that?” She demanded. “Because he told you some sob story? Some grand escapade with no merit?” She pounded a fist on the table, wincing. “Just some big words and some bloodshed.”

   “What you need now is sleep.” I said, taking her hand and guiding her to the bed.

   “I need another drink.”

   “No. You have had enough.” I tucked the covers around her as she collapsed against the pillows.

   “You shouldn’t keep an alcoholic away from their alcohol.” Rixa mumbled as her eyes slowly closed.

    “Nor an exhausted elf from her bed.” I replied with a smile.

    With a soft sigh, Rixa was asleep.

    I watched her a moment, my sympathy with her. I hoped a night’s rest would clear her head, and open her heart to Rumarin.

 

-Rixa-

  Rixa felt fear as sleep took over her sobering body. She drank only to keep the horrible visions at bay long enough to get a decent amount of rest. Each time the dream was the same. She stood in a field, which was engulfed in fire and smoke. People all around her screamed, and the stench of death thick in the air. Fear gripped her, holding her in place as she could do nothing to stop the chaos surrounding her. Hands came forward from the smoke, reaching for her. Usually, she would wake up before they got her, terrified and drenched in sweat. But this time she couldn't stop them. She could only scream silently into the dark, and wait in horror for the monster who was behind the hands. But when they came into her sight, she wasnt afraid. The hands held her, in a frim embrace, and she felt at ease, safe within their grip. She looked up into the owner of the hands, and saw Rumarin. 

  Rixa shot up, her head spinning with a mix of the fading drink and the horrid dream. She steadied herself against the bedpost, sweeping back the mess of hair that covered her face. She turned her blurry gaze to the chair beside her bed, where Sicarius was softly snoring. 

    “I remember.” She murmured. 

   The nord kicked the bed as he roused from slumber, a sleepy snort escaping from his open mouth. “What is it?” He slurred, sounding too much like a nord. 

   “I remember.” Rixa repeated. “I remember the Thalmor, and Shimmerene, and the riots, my mother, and…” Her eyes went wide, and she flung back the covers and slapped across the stone floor in nothing but her underclothes. “Where is he?” She demanded. 

   “Who?” Sicarius asked, still not fully awake. 

   “My father!” Rixa yelled, clambering up the ladder to exit through the cemetery. 

    Her head pounding as light flooded her sensitive eyes, she stumbled through the streets of Riften, to the tavern. 

   “Lady Rixa! You’re awake.” J’zargo was the first to her side as she stood hunched in the doorway. “And indecent!” The khajiit started removing his robes, and held them over Rixa’s shoulders.

    “Where is Rumarin?” She asked, waving the robes away. 

     “Upstairs. First room on the right.” The cat said. 

     “Thank you, my love.” She said, patting the cat’s cheek before climbing the stairs. She burst through the door, and Rumarin leapt from his bed in shock. 

    “Rixa!” He gasped, breathing heavily. 

    “Where did you go?” She asked quietly. 

   “Wh-What do you mean?” 

    “After the massacre.” Rixa pressed. The lump in her throat rose, and tears threatened her. “Where did you go?” 

   Rumarin swallowed hard. “They captured me. Shipped me back to Valenwood. Made me a slave in their mines.” 

    “Did you ever try to escape?” 

    Tears rolled down the elf’s golden cheeks as he nodded. “Every day. Rixa I...I never meant to leave you. I only wished for you to live. But...I never intended for you to feel such pain. Especially not at that age.”   

    “And now? What do you want now?” She felt the tears sting her eyes, and she gripped the doorframe for support. “What do you want from me?” She demanded. 

   “I want to start over.” Rumarin sobbed. “I want to be your father. I want you to...To be my daughter again.” 

    The tirade of emotion let loose, and Rixa felt her emotive dam break. Years of pent up emotion flooded the air around her, and she felt more like a child than ever.

   “Da?” She whimpered.

   Rumarin rushed to his child, holding her tightly as she they both sobbed. 

    “Yes, my child.” He said, stroking her matted raven hair. “Da is here.” 

 


End file.
